


Somatosensory

by badideasbear (aquiclude)



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Danger Kink, Electricity Play, Implied Alien Biology, M/M, Magic, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquiclude/pseuds/badideasbear
Summary: Kirin admires Will’s sleek armour, but he can’t quite entice Will out of it. No matter. Touching Will through the armour introduces all sorts of exciting possibilities.





	Somatosensory

**Author's Note:**

> Archiving old works that were solely posted on tumblr. Bless Ao3's backdating funciton. From original post:
> 
> "Content Notes: kinky use of protective armour, sexual content, implied alien biology, power kink, kindasorta electricity play, character with issues accepting pleasure, kd being his manipulative self. sorry not sorry about giving will literal afterglow"

Strife feels Kirin Dave’s warmth against his back and doesn’t step away. The storm sage is solid and imposing but the pressure of his fingers trailing up the thin plated ridges covering Will’s sides is light, delicate and all the more maddening for being so.

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline of the fight, perhaps using bio-composites in the suit for environmental feedback was a terrible mistake – or maybe his imagination is just a damned traitor – but he could swear he feels Kirin’s breath on his ear through the covered earpieces just as much as the touch of his hands on the suit.

Kirin slides a hand slowly up Will’s chest, murmuring about the efficiency of Will’s design, but Will can barely focus to understand the litany of praises. Oh, god. Will could just step away; Kirin isn’t even actually holding him. Just one step to break the contact, but beneath his suit and his fierce embarrassment his skin feels hypersensitive, crying out for touch. It’s all he can do not to tip his head back and arch up into Kirin’s hands. He’s not going to, though. He won’t.

A firmer stroke of fingers traces across the layered metal-composite piece of his neck protection, and Will bites down on his lip and ducks his head down, inadvertently leaning in to the touch. The hand at his throat has, just hours ago, thrown lightning and wielded spells powerful enough to destroy ancient warded walls. Will realises with a lurch of his insides that out of all the ridiculous actions of today’s adventure, this right here is the closest Will has come to death.

Will shudders against Kirin and bites his lip hard enough to taste sweet blood. The chitinous surface plates and wired sinews of the suit will dissipate the power of nearly any attack, but it does nothing to stop the way that fear steals the breath from his lungs, forcing him to gasp at each inhale as his traitor body thrills with the touch of this creature who is nothing so much as a force of nature, awe-inspiring and deadly.

"Ooh. This neckpiece. Doesn’t it limit your head movement?” Kirin asks conversationally.

“N-no,” Will manages, barely. Will moves his head from side to side slowly, demonstrating the range of motion, playing along with Kirin’s veil-thin pretence of intellectual curiosity about Will’s design.

But this isn’t the game Will wants, he realises: Kirin playing at beneficent seducer and Will pretending he’s unmoved. Will _is_ afraid right now, and just as equally he’s wanting, enjoying these strokes and caresses. WIll isn’t a coward. Sometimes he wishes he was; perhaps he’d make better decisions. The one he’s about to make, he’s sure he’ll come to regret, but he wants more.

He wants Kirin Dave divine and crackling with power like he was in the Lich Tower, not softly manipulative Kirin playing at benign. Will tips his head back and to the side, exposing the length of his covered neck to Kirin’s attentions, an invitation Will can’t bring himself to give voice to. Kirin obliges readily: the repeated drag of fingertips in a smooth arc across Will’s throat is lulling, a caress and a threat at once. Will could swear he can feel Kirin’s smile.

“Oh, lovely,” Kirin murmurs appreciatively. Will is loathe to think of himself in the role of prey, but this must be what it is like to be toyed with by an apex predator. His heart races, scared and savouring the sensations under his skin as something inside him starts to unfurl, slow and liquid and delicious. Kirin’s other arm closes in around Will’s chest, trapping him.

“Hmm. I wonder,” Kirin muses. His warm breath shifts from Will’s ear to Will’s neck and suddenly Will feels the press of lips, the lick of a tongue, and sees sparks flash out of the corner of his eye. Will gasps.

“I thought so,” Kirin murmurs. “Excellent.”

And oh, the organic feedback aspect of the suit was the biggest mistake. The electric kiss dissipates through his suit as a pulse radiating out, a full body shiver over and through Will’s skin. His remaining pride crumbles to pleasure as his head falls back against Kirin’s shoulder, clutching desperately at the storm sage’s confining embrace as he begs him to keep going.

Will wants to sob, wants to scream, wants to go down on his knees and beg for mercy. Instead he rocks his hips in wanton desperation as Kirin holds him fast and mouths lightning kisses into his neck and shoulder. His body hums with it as Kirin Dave’s power thrums through his suit, pushing him tantalisingly closer to fulfilment with each pulse.

The undeniable sensation of unfurling, of opening out slick and wet, is rendered strange in the confines of the exoskeleton but no less achingly good. It takes him hard; it’s been a long time since he allowed himself this kind of physical contact with another another person, and the flood of endorphins is just – warm all over and, oh.

When he falls limp against Kirin’s hold, he doesn’t even slide an inch as his knees buckle, the demigod’s strength so fully effortless. Fuzzily, Will’s aware of the the sensation of movement and the sound of Kirin’s voice murmuring away conversationally. He is being carried, his feet no longer touching the floor, but Will doesn’t really want to open his eyes or do anything much more than relax into Kirin’s warmth.

The sound of Kirin’s voice drifts into focus. “…hope I didn’t scare you too badly, that was terrible manners of me to not warn you…” Buoyed on the wave of internal chemical reactions in a hazy glow, Will finds it difficult to care. He is placed on gently on something soft. There are cushions and Will nestles into them gratefully.

When he comes back to himself enough to connect two thoughts in a straight line again, Will sits up and takes off his headpiece and visor. He’s still glowing a little, his hands and face in particular. Damn chemicals. He presses a recessed button on his chestplate. With a hiss, the segments separate slightly, loosening. He looks around. Next to him there’s a cup of what looks like green tea on the table. Beyond that the room is mostly bookshelves. Will can see Kirin pottering around in the next room through the fall of vines at the rooms entrance.

Embarrassment is starting to creep back in on the horizon of Will’s thoughts. He wants to protest that this isn’t something he does; he doesn’t get intimate with customers on the spur of the moment and then go brain-dead on them. It’s… it’d be terrible for his reputation if this got out, not to mention horrendously risky.

A rustle of vines interrupts Will’s reverie.

“How are you?” the storm sage asks, leaning up against the far wall. He’s holding a cup of tea of his own lending the whole situation a surreal domesticity.

“Fine, fine, just a chemical thing,” Will mutters, brushing off the concern. “I don’t normally mix business with pleasure, you understand?” Will blurts out. It’s unfair. His body feels so pleasantly loose and supple and he wants to at least try and be on his guard mentally right now, but it’s hard when physically it’s as if all the tension’s been funnelled out of him. He sips at the green tea.

Kirin shakes sparks from his fingers like any other person would shake off wet hands and comes to sit down – not on the futon but cross-legged on the floor. “Well, our business was already concluded satisfactorily for both of us, I thought. Our pleasure now too, I hope.”

Will’s cheeks warm, amplifying his obvious glow even more. Well, Will definitely enjoyed himself, maybe a bit too much, though it’s difficult to feel bad about it when he feels this good all over. He’s not quite sure how that sort of thing works for Kirin Dave, but the demigod looks very cheerful at the moment and certainly seemed to be enjoying himself at the time as he teased Will to pieces.

“Mmm,” WIll agrees at last. “So long as we both understand that this does not change our working relationship at all.” He means to sound stern but suspects he’s undershot by some distance.

Kirin beams. His blond hair is endearingly fluffed up, almost standing on end due to the charge he must be holding. “Of course, Will. I’d hate to compromise your professionally,” he says, the soul of innocence, like he hasn’t just been enjoying having Will in an utterly compromising position.

Will’s laughs bubbles up from inside himself, catching him unawares. He leans back against the cushions. “You liar,” WIll says, without rancour.

Kirin tips his head to the side, eyes bright and amused. Sunlight glints off the curl of his horns, half-hidden by his hair. There’s danger in that smile. “Maybe,” Kirin says good-naturedly, sipping his tea. “Maybe.”


End file.
